


Just the Way You Are

by funfan, GoForGoals



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Developing Relationship, Friendship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5214821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funfan/pseuds/funfan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoForGoals/pseuds/GoForGoals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mats Hummels is an average teenager whose biggest dream is to get a place in his school's football team. But an unexpected encounter with his agemate Marcel Schmelzer turns his world upside down and makes him ask himself what really is important in life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, our dear readers! Thank you already for giving this story a chance, we hope that you will like it and follow the boys on their journey. We mused for a rather long time about who this fic should be about and in the end, we decided for Mats and Marcel because they fit perfectly the roles in this work. Please, bear in mind that this is an AU story so do expect difference of different kind between this world and real life.

Mats put the ball down on the ground with great care. He brushed off the grass leaves from the white rubber. He took a step back and straightened his back. He looked at the goal for the last time and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a moment and went through the mental list of the necessary steps. It was so easy, he knew them by heart and yet, his feet had let him down so far. He only needed to gain some momentum and put all the force of his run into kicking the ball. It wasn’t a big deal, he should have been able to do it effortlessly. And yet, he wasn’t.

He looked around, waited until a car passed him and when he was sure that no one was watching him, he started to run. Each step was carefully calculated so that he would reach the ball in the optimal kicking position that would help him swing his leg the best way possible. He put all his weight on his left foot and then shot.

His eyes followed the ball. It was whistling through the air with incredible speed and it started to spin at the right time. Mats’ eyes sparkled with hope, but it didn’t last long. The ball sped up, its spinning became faster as well and it curled past the construction of the cheap football goal.

Mats let out a frustrated groan. He was never going to succeed and the test game for his high school’s football team was getting closer and closer. If he couldn’t make it into the team, he would remain an unnoticeable little mouse in the huge school. Football was his last shot, he simply had to make it. Reminding himself of the stakes helped and he found new strength. He started off to gather the ball that stopped under a bush. He crouched down and reached for it.

“You hit it with your laces.”

The sound was almost inaudible and weak, ghost-like. Mats jerked his head up and looked around, a bit scared. He got frightened easily and that might have been the reason for his unpopularity in school. The footballers on the other hand… no one could scare them and Mats was dying to be one of them. For now, though, he was relieved when he saw that there was a very rational explanation for the voice.

It came from an open window of a house neighboring the playground. Its owner was a pale boy, around Mats’ age, sitting at the window and staring at the world outside. He still hadn’t lost his boyish features. His face was bony and it accentuated his beautiful gray eyes. His blonde strands feel into his forehead and Mats almost had to laugh when he saw the old-fashioned hair highlights. Seriously, who was wearing them nowadays?

“You put too much spin into it and that’s why it gets out of control.” He continued, smiling at Mats. There was something in his voice that drew Mats’ attention. He couldn’t quite tell what it was, he only knew that he would be able to listen to this boy for hours without getting bored and that was saying something in his case.

“Excuse me?” He found his tongue and his defiance. He jerked his head up. How could this young guy know what he was trying to accomplish and most importantly, how to do it? He had watched a dozen videos and read a lot of articles explaining the move he wanted to muster, he wasn’t going to listen to a stranger.

“You want to curl it right into the corner so a goalkeeper wouldn’t stand a chance, don’t you?” The blonde boy asked and Mats looked at him awed and lost for words. “Sorry, I was bored and I’ve been watching you for some time.” He admitted sheepishly. “It was quite amusing to see you make the same mistake over and over again while expecting different results. I think it was Einstein who said that this is the definition of insanity.”

“Oh, really?” Mats cried out offended. “Maybe you should care about your precious Einstein instead of staring at me!” He snapped and turned around, shooting the ball back onto the pitch and running after it.

He shook his head. He couldn’t believe his fortune. He had always tried to avoid smarty pants and one after another, he ran into them. Really, what was that blond guy thinking? They weren’t friends and Mats hadn’t asked him for an advice. He should have just kept his mouth shut if he was already watching the dark-haired without permission. Mats wasn’t sure if he should consider the other boy’s behavior creepy, but then, he couldn’t forbid him to look out his window after all.

Instead, he put his frustration into his movements. He moved vigorously and just like it usually is, it only made him look clumsy and he could stop the ball only on the third try. He almost pushed it into the ground before he walked back three steps and got ready for another attempt. It had to be the hundredth effort this afternoon. The sun was about to set and it was painting the early spring sky in a beautiful shade of orange. But Mats didn’t notice it; he had never cared about such ‘romantic’ things and he found them stupid. He was a sixteen-year old boy, he couldn’t have on his mind trifle things like this. It was for girls. He only looked at the goal and he kept his eyes locked on the exact spot he wanted the ball to hit.

He started to run and he slipped, almost losing his balance, but he kept going. He couldn’t allow himself to fall in front of that obtrusive kid. He was going to show him. He would get that ball in that top corner without listening to him, because he knew how to do it. Laces. Yes, sure, as if this move was such an easy thing. How could that guy know? He didn’t look as if he had touched a football ball his entire life. Mats shot again…

…and missed again. The ball got somewhat closer to its destination, but it was still not good enough for Mats’ liking. As he started off for the ball, he heard a soft chuckle and he knew that he couldn’t leave it that way. He turned towards the source of the sound, ready to burst with anger.

Mats had a hard time keeping his emotions at bay and finally, he let his anger out on the ball. Mats didn’t even count the times he repeated the movement again and again, trying to succeed. But, no matter how many times he gave it a go, the ball never landed in the net the way he had planned it to do.

The anger was soon replaced by frustration and afterwards, pure exhaustion. Mats slumped down onto the ground, grabbing the water bottle he had brought with him, swallowing down the refreshing liquid in large gulps. What the hell was going wrong here and why did he still feel the presence of the other boy, as if his eyes were burning him?

He turned around and stared directly into the direction of the window, something he had avoided during his countless trials and errors.

The boy was still there.

Of course he was, probably he was even satisfied that Mats had failed and failed and failed. But, the other one didn’t mock him like he had expected him to do. Instead, he shouted encouragingly at him, his voice much louder than before as if he had lost his restraints in the heat of the action.

„You did well, you’re almost there!“ Mats listened to him, astonished that the other one was so eager all of a sudden, as if he was standing on the pitch himself. „Just try to stretch your foot a little bit more when you are hitting the ball, then, you should manage the trick!“

Mats bit onto his lips, not sure what he should do next. Should he follow the advice, admitting that he listened to the other boy, or should he stop his efforts here, not giving in to the smart-aleck who was talking as if he knew it all?

He hesitated, turning his water bottle insecurely in his hands. And suddenly, the other boy was gone. Within a split second the window was empty and Mats felt a sharp sting in his heart. Why had the other one left him without a goodbye? He knew that it was ridiculous, but he felt as if the boy had dumped him.

He stared at the window for some more seconds but, the other teenager didn’t appear there again. Besides, it was getting dark and Mats should return to his home, too. But before he would leave the pitch, he would make one last attempt to shoot the ball into the net, he decided.

Mats placed the ball onto the grass and took a deep breath. Then, he took a run-up, remembering the words the boy had said to him. In the last moment, before he hit the ball, he stretched his foot.

The tall teenager watched the result of his effort - and saw the ball hitting the goal net after it had described a perfect flight path, just like he had intended it to do.


	2. An Advice to Take

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We must thank you for supporting our story right from the start. Hopefully you won't come to regret your decision and will stay tuned, because there's so much more coming the boys' way. Please, let us know what you think of this chapter, your feedback is always appreciated. :-)

All Mats could do was stare after the ball before he looked down at his foot incredulously. What had happened, had it really been him who had performed that perfect shot? For seconds, he stood still, frozen in place, as if he would ruin the perfect moment if he would move only a single limb.

He considered repeating the motion but, that would have destroyed the miracle that had happened just minutes ago, released by his right foot that obviously wasn’t so useless than he sometimes had feared. Instead, he gazed up at the window again, somehow hoping that the other teenager had seen that he had finally been successful. But, there was no movement behind the curtains anymore.

Slowly, Mats walked over to the goal, grabbing the ball and stroking over its leathery surface, exploring the seams with his fingertips. Sometimes, he hated the ball and sometimes, on days like this, he loved it.

Would he ever become a professional footballer, would he be able to fulfill his biggest dream? Inside, he was full of doubts even if he didn’t let it show. Only his best friend Neven was allowed to glimpse behind his facade every now and then.

Mats left the ground, not without eyeing up to the window another time. He hesitated, musing if he should walk over to the entrance door of the building, throwing a look at the names on the door bell plates.

No, he couldn’t do this, he should stop occupying himself in his thoughts with that mysterious boy. The other one had simply looked out of his window, giving him some hints, nothing more and nothing less.

Mats strolled back home, the ball under his arm, kicking every stone and every tin on his way. Ever since he could think back, he was kicking against things, in the search of the perfect shot.

And today he had performed it.

„Hi, Mom,” he greeted his mother before he disappeared straight into his own room, switching his computer on. He knew the name of the street the other teenager lived in and before he could even think of it, his fingers flew over the keyboard and he typed it into a search machine.

A hairdresser. A restaurant. Tons of surnames he had never heard before.

Mats groaned, frustrated, but, mostly about himself. Why was he still thinking of that nosy teenager? Because he had helped him to manage the trick he had tried over and over again? No, it had been he himself who had succeeded. Sure thing, he probably couldn’t have done it without the other one’s help, but still, it was his accomplishment. Then why on earth was he disappointed that the blond teenager hadn’t seen him? He was sure that he would have been proud of him; he would have understood the meaning and importance of this little victory. Mats wanted to share his success with someone, and right now, he was out of options.

His parents hadn’t understood his obsession with football. To them, he was an average footballer – which eventually was more or less true – and they didn’t think that he could ever make a living out of it. Mats wasn’t even thinking that far, and that was exactly why his parents hadn’t taken him seriously. They couldn’t see how someone could enjoy a sport so much that he would stick to it at all costs. To Mats, football was a source of joy and fulfillment; when he scored, he felt like it made him someone, not just one of many. That was exactly what his folks couldn’t get and it usually led to unresolved rows between them.

“Neven!” Mats cried out suddenly, like he always did whenever an idea popped up in his mind. He reached for his phone and quickly dialed his best friend’s number.

Neven was his classmate and he had been ever since Mats could remember. They had always sat together and they had been inseparable. If there was a school project for two students, it was no question whom Mats and Neven would choose.

“Hey, Neven! Listen, I need to talk to you!” Mats blurted out as soon as the six days older teenager picked up his phone.

“Really? What a coincidence!” Mats heard Neven’s voice, but it wasn’t coming from his phone. He quickly turned around and saw his long-haired friend standing in the doorway. “Don’t you think I know it when my bro needs me?” Neven smiled and entered, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Um, I have doubts about it.” Mats smiled smugly, standing up to shake Neven’s hand. “I’d say that your folks weren’t pleased when you told them about your newest Math grades.”

“You know me better than they do!” Neven laughed and raised his hands in defense. “You know why I came here, so what about your problems?”

Mats opened his mouth to answer right away, but words got stuck in his throat. What was he supposed to say? They didn’t have secrets in front of each other with Neven, but Mats was too proud to just admit some emotional problem. Not when he wasn’t sure if he was having one at all. But, his best friend’s look turned more and more questioning as he waited for Mats’ response.

“I watched TV in the afternoon.” Mats blurted out the first nonsense that came into his mind. “It was an interesting episode of a daytime drama, I don’t remember the title anymore. But it made me think.”

“Since when does TV make you think?” Neven asked sarcastically.

“Shut up!” Mats groaned frustrated. “The point is, that there was a guy who was trying to do something very hard, and out of nowhere, there came a stranger who told him exactly how to do it and when he listened to him, he succeeded. The only problem was that by the time he beat his defiance, the stranger was gone.”

“Aham.” Neven nodded, as if he was trying to say _I know what you want to say_. He didn’t say anything, though. There was no mocking comment, he didn’t judge Mats and that’s what the raven-haired teenager liked the most about his best friend. “And where does this stranger live? I mean, is there a chance that _this guy_ can meet him again?”

“Yeah, he doesn’t live far from– where the guy lives.” Mats remembered his cover story just in time before he could have uttered a complete blur. Neven only smiled, smugly, the corners of his lips almost concealed by his mustache and beard that seemed impossibly perfectly trimmed considering his age.

“You are really interested in my advice to a TV character?” Neven asked.

“Come on, yesterday during lunch you talked with some guy about who would be the best king for Westeros or whatever.” Mats rolled his eyes at the memory.

“That’s something completely different!” Neven snapped. “You see, in Game of Thrones it is about…” He started a spirited explanation Mats knew wouldn’t end for hours if he wasn’t going to stop it as soon as possible.

“Could we please focus on my problem? I mean the problem of the guy from TV!” Mats quickly corrected himself, his face burning for giving himself away. Neven started to laugh, but it was the kind sort of laughter, not meant to laugh at Mats.

“I really don’t know what to say, Mats. It’s up to you what you do.” Neven said and Mats hummed, preoccupied with his thoughts, not realizing that he had just ruined his own cover beyond help. “I mean the guy from TV does.” Neven added, his little comment being spot on. “But, if I were the screenwriter, I would make him go back where he met that stranger. Maybe he has intrigued the stranger, too, and the stranger wants to meet him again as much as he does.”


	3. Hopes... Crushed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third chapter is here and we hope that you will like it and let us know. Feedback is very important to us writers, because it not only tells us if we are doing fine or not, but also what we should change to make the story better. So please, don't hesitate to share your thoughts with us. :-)

The next day in school seemed to go on forever. Mats couldn’t follow the lessons, not even in the subjects he liked the most. Neven, who was sitting next to him, shot him a knowing gaze from time to time, especially when he had to fill in for him because Mats had missed an instruction from their teachers.

„That TV series seems to be a really thrilling one,“ Neven whispered by the end of the day, when the school bell finally rang for the last time. „You should go on with the next, eh… episode to find out what will be happening.“

Mats blushed although blushing normally wasn’t his kind of reaction, he never blushed and it annoyed him to no end. „Maybe I should forget about it, it’s stupid anyway,“ he muttered, stuffing his belongings into his bag without caring that he crumpled some pages of his exercise books.

„It would be stupid to forget about it,“ Neven said casually before he walked ahead, out into the open, stretching his limbs. „But, I could understand if you wouldn’t want to sit in front of your television. It’s a wonderful day to do something outside. Playing football for example.“ He punched his best friend in the side who only gaped at him. „By the way, do you need an opponent?“

„You want to play football with me?“ Mats stated, not knowing what he should make out of this offer. On the one hand, he could use some company. On the other, he didn’t want to share the boy in the window with anybody, strange as it seemed. The realization hit him with a force he wouldn’t have expected. „Eh, I think I will go home first…“ he drawled but luckily, his friend got him anyway.

„Don’t worry, Mats, it’s all right. Just promise me that you will think about my advice from yesterday, will you?“ Neven looked him directly in the eyes and all Mats could do was nod in response. „Fine,“ Neven said satisfied. „And if you want to, come over to me after you have watched television, played football or whatever you are planning for the afternoon.“ He winked at his best friend, took his bicycle and left.

Mats took a walk home, musing about his options. Should he really go back to the football ground, practicing some tricks again? The training would do him good but he couldn’t deceive himself. If he would go back to the pitch, he wouldn’t do it because of the exercises. He would do it because of the boy he had seen in the window.

A large tin came into his way and Mats kicked it with all that he had, as if it was responsible for the confusion he felt since he had met the other teenager for the first time. It flew through the air, almost hitting the car of his teacher who drove by. Mats ducked his head contritely and then, he started to run.

„I don’t want to be told off,“ he said to himself while he became out of puff, „I almost crashed the vehicle of my Physics teacher.“ He ran faster, suddenly not able to stop, until he arrived at home. He darted into his room, grabbing his football shoes and the ball, slipping into his trainings clothes as if the devil was haunting him. Luckily his mother was still at work and she didn’t ask him stupid questions. „Maybe my teacher is already searching for me,“ he pretended inwardly, „I’ll have to leave.“ hastening out of the flat. His feet followed their own will and he didn’t want to stop them either.

Minutes later, he arrived at the training ground, sweat running down his features, soaking his shirt. He barely had caught his breath when…

When he let out a sigh of disappointment. He couldn’t tell why he felt anger rising in his blood. It’s not like the blonde teenager was obliged to sit in his window and wait for Mats each and every day. They didn’t even know each other, after all. Or maybe he was still in school. Or on his way home. Or really anywhere except for that room in his house overlooking the football pitch. Mats shouldn’t have been moved by his missing and he knew it. And yet, coming here and talking to the other boy, even if it was only for a few sentences and about football had been what had helped him through his day. It felt so not right to fail now.

He gathered that since he was already here, he could use the time effectively. He put the ball next to the goal post and started his warm-up, although he didn’t really need it after his running home and here. But, the test game was upon him and it was so easy to pick up stupid injuries if he missed the appropriate warming up. Nothing would hurt him more than having to sit on the stand as he watched the many hopeful applicants chasing the ball and proving to their coach that they were good enough to be given a chance. Talking about things that could hurt him, Mats glanced at that special window again, but it was still closed and nothing suggested that it would change in the near future. Mats felt a sudden urge to walk to the house and check it, maybe get an idea about what was going on or who the mysterious boy might be.

He had spent his night musing about the possibilities. He hadn’t seen this blonde, he was sure of that. Considering the reaction his new acquaintance brought out from him, there was no way that Mats could have missed seeing him. And it only raised another question. How come they hadn’t met? Almost everyone living in this neighborhood attended Mats’ school. Of course, there was a chance that the blonde had a special talent, after all, not everyone would quote Einstein the first time they met someone. But still, Mats wasn’t the kind of boy who stayed at home. He was almost always outside, he would have seen the blonde one way or another. His doubts only encouraged him to go and read the nametag on the mail box. He even made the first faltering step, but his defiance won in the end.

He wasn’t going to go down that way. He couldn’t know what was going on in his mind and his heart, and giving in to his foolish thoughts would only make matters worse than they already were. He turned towards the ball again. He placed his foot on it and he rolled it to the middle of the pitch. He focused on the goal in front of him, imagined a few opponents between him and his destination and started to dribble towards the goal. He knew that he looked ridiculous, but it was how he started all of his trainings. In his mind, he was unbeatable and he could trick everyone.

He stopped after a few minutes and started practicing his kicking again. Playing football made him forget and he was absorbed in the pleasure of shooting at the goal over and over again. He used the technique he learned yesterday and it was visible on his results. He hit his target much more often than earlier.

When he felt comfortable with curling the ball into the corner, he tried out something new and failed miserably. No matter what he did, he couldn’t hit the ball the exact right way and soon enough, he ran out of ideas. After minutes of frustration and grumbling, he ordered himself a short break. He sat on his ball and took big gulps from his water bottle.

“I see that you took my advice, but you need a totally different approach to score from such a tight angle.”

That voice again. Mats spun around so quickly that he lost his balance and the ball shot out from under him and he landed on his backside. The blond boy was in the window again and he let out a wholehearted laugh, seeing Mats’ embarrassing fall. The raven-haired rolled his eyes and out of nowhere, his anger broke free. He had been angry at the blond for not being there and waiting for him when he had arrived, but now, he was angry because he hadn’t told Mats right away once he had arrived.

“You think you know it all, don’t you?” He snapped, springing up. “You, you, you–” He stammered, running out of words.

“Marcel.” The blond said calmly.

“What?” He asked, taken aback.

“My name is Marcel.” The blond repeated, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Mats.” Mats nodded, all anger vanished within an instant. Marcel – what a wonderful name it was – had made up for everything he might have done to him; and he hadn’t even done anything, to be fair. “What do you think I should do?” He asked, his defiance forgotten.

“First of all, you should stop shooting with the same foot all the time. I know that your right foot is stronger, but you will rarely get into situations when you will have the time to stop the ball and aim. You should get comfortable shooting with your left foot as soon as possible.”

Mats didn’t say anything. He didn’t object, he just went for the ball and started to do as he was told. He was determined to listen to Marcel right away and succeed, but this time he would share his joy with his new friend.

It was a great plan, but didn’t quite work out that way. With his efforts, only his frustration grew and after an hour, he was ready to shout out his pain. The more he tried, the worse he got. Most of the time, the ball swished meters from the goal and Marcel only kept repeating the same advice over and over.

“Oh, yeah?” Mats finally cried out, placing his hand on his hips. “Why don’t you come here and show me how to do it, then, smartass?” He uttered the words that he already regretted.

“I’m not sure my Mom would allow that.” Marcel said sheepishly.

“You have to ask for permission from your Mom?” Mats snorted and burst out laughing. It took him a second to realize how much he had hurt Marcel. The blond boy was sitting in the window with a sour expression on his face. “I’m sorry, Marcel, I didn’t mean to laugh at you.” Mats blurted out.

“It’s okay.” Marcel sighed. “Just keep trying, it will work out sooner or later.” He said weakly. Mats nodded, but he couldn’t focus on playing anymore. He felt awful and finding his target was the least of his concerns. He forced himself to keep focused on the ball, though. He kept his eyes on the ground and when he finally dared to look up, the window was empty again.


	4. The Masterplan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We know that this update took longer than maybe you would have liked, but we will try to come with the next chapter as soon as possible. Your comments and feedback will surely boost our motivation so if you have something to say about the chapter or the story, feel free to share it with us. :-)

Mats had no idea what he was supposed to do. He had endured the awfully long day at school and he had been looking forward to a wonderful afternoon spent in Marcel’s company. And now, he was standing on the training pitch completely alone, ridden of his hopes and plans for the rest of the day. He had wanted to talk with the blond about so many things after training. Knowing himself, he probably wouldn’t have dared to talk anyways, but now he was mourning the chance that not only he hadn’t used, but he had basically erased.

He waited for a few minutes, praying that the teenager would return, that he only had to help his mother. Hell, maybe he was asking for permission right now to join Mats. Mats was sure that it wasn’t so, but he wanted to cling to his last hope as much as it was possible, because he didn’t have much to rely on. He had fucked it up and he knew it, and his instinct told him to do what he did all the time: stand still and wait until things would solve themselves and everything would turn for the better. It wasn’t the wisest approach and it also meant that Mats usually waited for things to get better for a very long time before finding out that they wouldn’t get better at all.

He gave up after half an hour. He had no lust for football anymore and it was still early to go home. He started off aimlessly, walking with his head hanging low and leading the ball between his legs. He let his feet take him wherever they wanted him to go, because it surely was a better destination than whatever he could have come up with. He wasn’t sure if his brain worked at all during his walk, if he thought about anything, he couldn’t remember it later. But there had to be something on his mind, because he came back to reality only when he reached Neven’s house and he had no idea how he had gotten there.

He wasn’t totally convinced that visiting his best friend was the greatest idea ever, but he was thirsty and his legs hurt, or at least he wanted to believe that this was the reason that made him walk to the front door and ring the doorbell.

Neven’s mom opened the door and immediately called for Neven. She was a nice lady and was always kind to Mats, treating him like a second son. They really were like brothers and their families never showed any sign that they thought of them otherwise.

“What’s up, Mats?” Neven punched him in the arm playfully when his mother returned to the living room. “How come you came for a visit?”

“Nothing.” Mats groused. “It’s just that that stupid TV show was over sooner today…”

“I see.” Neven nodded knowingly and then he frowned as if he was thinking very hard. “Was it because the broadcast was interrupted or you couldn’t find the signal?”

It took Mats a few seconds to understand what his friend was talking about. “No, it’s that I’ve changed canals. Or maybe I smashed the whole fucking TV!” He burst out.

“Hey, hey, man!” Neven calmed him. “Keep it down! You know that mom says no swearing in our house!” He reprimanded him, whispering. He grabbed Mats by the shoulder and pulled him up the stairs and into his room. “Okay, now you can talk.”

“I fucked it up, Neven! I guess the series was canceled.” Mats shook his head as he slumped down on the bed.

“Okay, maybe you still understand this code language, but I’ve lost track of what’s going on. So if you could please talk to me in a language I speak, I would appreciate it.” Neven spoke calmly. He sat down in his office chair next to his huge writing desk. Mats had never understood why his friend wanted to look like a busy man with a lot of important work, but he never questioned it.

“You will laugh at me.” Mats said.

“Try me.” Neven winked at him, smiling. “Do you know me as a person who would laugh at a friend in dire need?”

“Honestly? Yes.” Mats answered the question ruthlessly and it somehow eased the tension between them and helped him start speaking his mind. “Okay, so there is no TV show.”

“You don’t say!” Neven feigned shock, but stopped it quickly when he saw Mats’ disapproving look.

“You know that I was practicing football after school, because I want to make it into the football team. I’ve found a nice and secluded pitch in our neighborhood and I’ve been going there ever since. Yesterday, I was focusing on my kicking technique and I was doing poorly, that’s when this guy appeared in his window and told me how to shoot. Of course, I didn’t give in that easily and went after my own guts, but when he wasn’t there anymore, I tried his tip and it worked. So I returned today, but he wasn’t there– at the start. And when he arrived, he was once again sitting in his window. He gave me advice again, and I tried it immediately, but it just didn’t work and I got frustrated. I told him to come and show me how I should do it, but he only said that his mother wouldn’t let him. After that, I might have insulted him.” He admitted sheepishly.

“Mats, what did you say?” Neven sighed.

“I didn’t say anything!” Mats raised his hands, defending himself. “I just kind of laughed at him that he had to ask his mother about it.”

“In what universe isn’t that an insult?” Neven snapped.

“Hey, he is our age!” Mats retorted. “And I didn’t mean it! I didn’t even realize what I was doing.”

“Oh, so I should be wary, then? Maybe you will insult me any moment.” Neven mocked him.

“Hey! You promised me that you wouldn’t laugh at me!” Mats scolded him.

“I haven’t said anything about mocking you.” Neven shrugged.

“Why don’t you stop being a smartass and tell me what I should do, instead?” Mats suggested.

“I don’t know,” Neven drawled, “in your world, the thanks for an advice is an insult or at least a mocking laugh. Okay, I’ll stop it!” He quickly added, seeing anger rising in his friend’s eyes. “So here is what we will do…”

„I’m all ears,” Mats stated, relieved that there was some progress. At least, he hoped so. He made himself comfortable, eager to catch every one of Neven’s words as if he would be able to present him the masterplan itself.

„We will make him jealous,” his friend didn’t beat around the bush.

„We do what?!” Mats exclaimed, the first part of Neven’s statement already overstraining him. Then, he tried to put his finger on Neven’s remark. „And wait! By _we_ you mean you and me?” he stammered, now even more confused.

„Exactly.” Neven replied, completely unimpressed. „I will come with you to the football ground as soon as possible and we will practice together. I bet he will see us and I’m quite sure that it will bring him out of his shell.”

„That will work?” Mats doubted with utter disbelief.

„Sure!” Neven gave back. „It’s the oldest trick in the world. If he is interested in you and if he wants to get to know you better, he will come down and join us or he will do something different. But, he will react in some kind of way, I promise.”

Mats sighed. „I hope that you are right. Just the thought of you and me together like in _together_ sends chills down my spine. It’s such a ridiculous idea!”

Neven however grinned at him mischievously. „That’s not all,” he whispered secretly, „we will have to set up a plan. Some kind of plot, to be precise.”

„What do you mean?” his friend asked, his face looking like a big question mark.

„You have to touch me every now and then and…“

„WAIT!” Mats cut Neven short, „I don’t want to hear that, really.” He pressed his hands onto his ears in a childish gesture and Neven shut up immediately. Mats gazed at him but, his friend didn’t say anything anymore, he simply waited until Mats pulled his hands back.

„Should I help you or should I help you?” Neven asked politely when Mats finally let his arms sink.

„Help me,” Mats muttered embarrassed and Neven touched his shoulder in a reassuring gesture Mats was really thankful for.

„See, that’s a good start,” Neven meant, „but we should pull all the stops.”

„I won’t kiss you! Ew, no offense but I could not do that!” Mats cried out, earning a laughter from his best friend.

„Believe me, I don’t want to kiss you either. But maybe we could pretend that we are very close in another way. Just imagine that I am him, will you?” Neven urged.

„It’s easier said than done.” Mats replied, „You are not half as handsome as he is. You don’t have his beautiful eyes and soft blond strands and–”

His friend looked at him with big eyes. „I see that this is a very urgent case. You are truly hopelessly in love. Then we better hurry up,” Neven finally decided.


	5. The Plan Falls Through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with the next chapter of our story. We hope you will like it and share your thoughts with us. :-)

Mats honestly didn’t know what to think of Neven’s idea. His best friend’s enthusiasm had convinced him that it could work and being crazily in love with Marcel, he was ready to do anything it took to win the blond’s heart. But, when he got home, he started to have doubts, especially about that _anything_. Chills ran down his spine whenever he thought about simply touching Neven in any way that couldn’t be taken as a friendly gesture. And, if he had understood the dark-haired boy correctly, they were supposed to go further than that.

He went to sleep, beset by doubts and his sleep was troubled. He didn’t have nightmares, but he woke up soaked in sweat after just an hour of frightening dreams. He couldn’t remember them, only enough to know that he didn’t want to remember them. He had a hard time falling asleep again and it affected his ability to concentrate in school. Not that he had ever been the student who was eager to hear everything his teacher was saying. What interested him, he paid attention to. His only luck was that he was a quick learner. His intelligence was also paired with extreme laziness and he usually ended up staying up late the evenings before their tests. He wasn’t doing as good in school as he could have, but his results were still good enough for his parents to allow him doing what interested him much more than Maths or History. Football.

Mats wanted to share his concerns with Neven about their plan, but his best friend wasn’t up for talking and before Mats could utter a word, they were heading towards the pitch next to Marcel’s home. When the simple house came into sight, Mats’ heart started to pound like a racehorse’s. This wasn’t a good idea and he was sure of that. He wanted to turn around or at least give voice to his concerns, but all he managed was a squeal.

Neven started to laugh and he flung an arm around Mats’ waist and the teenager with the curly hair stood still. He paled and all power left him. This wasn’t going to work. First of all, he had crept out just by this innocent touch from Neven and secondly, if they kept going on like this, they wouldn’t make Marcel jealous at all. Instead, he would show the blond how great he was at fainting.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Neven tugged at him. Mats really felt like he would throw up and cast a cutting glance at Neven.

“Marcel can’t hear us, Neven, so there’s no reason why we should make things harder for us.” Mats cursed.

“Harder? I don’t know what you are talking about.” Neven looked at him innocently. “I’m just playing my role.”

“Just play it less enthusiastically.” Mats grumbled.

They arrived at the pitch and Mats stepped out of Neven’s embrace. He dropped the ball on the ground and started to chase it. He soon forgot about his worries. Neven was good at football. Amazing, at least compared to Mats. He had been a member of their school’s team ever since Mats could remember it. He gave Mats advice about his play and Mats started to relax. But he soon found out, that it wasn’t that rosy, when he started to play against Neven. He realized that he wasn’t quite as good as he had considered himself to be. Neven could dribble past him with ease and Mats could only watch him and be awed by his quick reflexes.

“Let’s take a break.” Neven suggested after an hour of intense playing.

Mats was very grateful for that. He would never admit it to his friend, but his legs hurt and he was tired. He wasn’t used to this high tempo at his trainings. He accepted the water bottle from Neven and started to swallow the cool liquid in huge gulps. His eyes wandered over to Marcel’s house involuntarily. The window was empty and the curtain was pulled. Mats felt a bit disappointed. If Marcel wasn’t watching them, was there any point in sticking to this little acting?

“Hey, we are here to make Marcel jealous and not me.” Neven stepped to him suddenly, and his hand was on Mats’ hip again. The younger teenager shivered and tried to get away from Neven, but he was held strongly. “Shh, we won’t go further than this. I see that it isn’t com-fortable for you and we wouldn’t be convincing taking it further. Just say something.”

“What?” Mats snapped.

“Say something.” Neven repeated.

“Okay, Neven! I think we should stop right now. This isn’t working and Marcel isn’t here. There must be other ways I can get closer–” He was ready to talk his heart out, but his best friend burst out laughing. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You can be so funny, Matsi.” Neven smiled at him and leaned closer to him, pressing their foreheads together. “Look at the window.” He whispered secretly.

Mats did as he was told and he could see a figure behind the curtain, watching them. He allowed himself a satisfied grin as he recognized Marcel. The blond boy must have noticed that he was staring at him, because the next moment, he disappeared from the window. But Mats couldn’t care about it. For now, their plan – which was practically Neven’s plan alone – was working and there was a faint hope for him getting together with Marcel after all. Now, he only had to wait and follow Neven’s instructions.

„Do something,” Neven encouraged his friend urgently, „come closer, this is your chance.”

Hesitantly, Mats placed his hand upon Neven’s shoulder. It felt odd and weird and somehow even wrong but, he put the disturbing thought aside and focused on this task.

„Yes, go on,” Neven stated, flinging his arm around Mats’ waist. The touch almost burnt and Mats had to force himself to stay like this - not because he wouldn’t like his friend or their closeness but, because he wanted to stare up to the window to see if the boy had appeared there again.

Neven however pulled him even tighter to his own body „Don’t,” he whispered, „forget about him for the moment. Embrace me,” he ordered, breathing the words directly into Mats’ sensitive ear. He didn’t only hear them, he literally felt them, as close as Neven was.

The dark haired did as he was told, hugging his best friend. It felt much better because they always embraced each other when they met or parted. Yet this time, Neven didn’t release him after the first seconds like he did otherwise, keeping the hug rather short. Instead, he ran his hand through Mats’ hair in addition, stroking it in a tender gesture, and that was the moment when Mats freaked out.

„I can’t!”, he exclaimed, pushing Neven away who stumbled backwards.

„Whoa!” his friend exclaimed startled, having a hard time to not fall down to the ground. „This wasn’t agreed!”

„I know,” Mats muttered, grabbing his belongings from the grass in a frantic pace as if he had to collect everything in a short period of time. Then, he slumped down on the pitch, ruffling his dark strands that had been touched by Neven just moments before. „I fucked it up,” he whispered, only now understanding the consequences of this outburst.

„We can still rescue the situation,” Neven answered to Mats’ surprise because he would have thought that his best friend would be really angry with him. Neven sat down next to Mats on the ground, so close that their bodies touched. He nudged his friend in the side before he lay his arm around Mats’ shoulders.

And this time, Mats didn’t need to back up from the touch, in the desperate need to find some comfort. He knew that their plan wouldn’t work anymore and that it probably was doomed to failure right from the start.

But how should he get to know the boy in the window better? He nestled more into Neven’s consoling embrace, sighing from the bottom of his heart. There he sat, the situation worse than ever before, and he himself was the only one to blame. Even Neven had fallen into silence, apparently at his wit’s end.

„Do you have a plan B?  Mats murmured against Neven’s damp shirt.

His friend shook his head. „I’m sorry, Mats,” he regretted. „But maybe we will soon have an idea what we could do.”

„Yeah, maybe”, Mats replied, not believing his own words for a second.

They sat on the pitch for a long time, two tall boys, one embracing the other. They listened to the noise of the streets, they watched the clouds passing by and they smelled the familiar scent of the grass.

But, what they didn’t do was seeing the curtain of a window not far away from them that slowly started to sway.


	6. Feelings and Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update comes a bit quicker than the last updates and we will hopefully be able to keep up with this pace. The story will speed up a little bit in the upcoming chapters. In the meantime, please feel free to share your opinion with us, we would be glad to read about your thoughts on our story. :-)

Marcel had no idea how to interpret what he had seen. Mats had found a new advisor for himself, that much was clear. What had been troubling him all afternoon was that this advisor didn’t look like just an advisor at all. Mats was clearly close to him. Very close. And the other boy had impressive football skills, Marcel had to admit with a bitter taste in his mouth. He wasn’t in the business of praising his rivals, but the long-haired teenager was good indeed. He must have played for a team, because there was reason to his movements and the results of hours of drilling exercises could be seen on his dribbles. Maybe he was Mats’ teammate?

No, that was impossible. There was no way that any team would have possibly considered Mats good enough for their ranks. At this thought, a huge lump appeared in Marcel’s throat. What was he thinking of his love?

Love? How was he thinking of Mats? What was going on with him? He shouldn’t have such ideas. Mats wasn’t his boyfriend and would never become it, at least based on what Marcel had seen in the afternoon. And he wasn’t feeling any deep feelings for him anyways. And yet, whenever he imagined him in his mind, the curly black strands, those serious dark eyes that still had a kind of playfulness to them, the characteristic and lovely face, the damp shirt sticking to Mats’ sweaty body…

This had to stop! This was not right. He couldn’t have fallen in love. It was impossible! But what other explanation was for the slight vibration pooling in his groin and stomach? Worse enough, he had apparently fallen in love with a boy in a relationship. It was no wonder. Mats was handsome and he must have been the dream boyfriend for anyone. He was Marcel’s ideal boyfriend, that much was clear.

But where could they have met? In school? Or maybe they were teammates after all? Maybe they had played together in a smaller club, but Mats’ mysterious significant other had moved up to a bigger team and now Mats was trying to follow him? Marcel didn’t like that possibility. It meant that Mats was trying to gain the other boy’s favor and affection, and it just wasn’t right. Mats was a wonderful human being and he had to be the one being courted. Marcel had already thought of so many ways to do that and he had concrete plans by now.

But, if these two were teammates, or had been, it must have meant that they spent a lot of time with each other and must have seen each other naked. And Marcel didn’t know why, but that image troubled him more than it should have.

He blushed when he realized where his train of thought had taken him. Something was not right with him and his brain told him to stop before it would become worse, but he simply couldn’t. He couldn’t ignore the warm feeling spreading out in his body and the blood rushing into his groin when he thought about Mats being naked. He licked his lips before he suddenly came to his senses.

“Marcel Schmelzer, you idiot…” He sighed and shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind.

He rolled on his other side on the bed and stared at the collection of posters that were covering the wall of his bedroom. The greatest footballers, the ones he had always looked up to. He had wanted to be one of them and he might have succeeded, but fate had a different course for him and his life had changed three years earlier. He had had to pass up his dreams because ever since then, he had to fight other battles. Battles that exhausted him.

 

Mats’ sudden appearance and their acquaintance had changed everything. It had given Marcel something to look forward to in his monotonous every days. He had imagined them for hours before falling asleep. How careless and happy they had been in those imaginations! By Mats’ side, Marcel would have felt safe, whole and free. But it seemed that it would only stay what it always had been: a broken teenager’s stupid and hopeless fantasies.

 

 

 

“Is something troubling you, darling?” His mother asked when they were sitting around the dinner table. Marcel had barely picked his food that had already cooled down in the meantime.

“No, I’m fine.” Marcel smiled at her and forced a bite of meat into his mouth to prove his point. He had to chew on it for a long time to be able to swallow it and even then, he had to gulp down a glass of water to keep it down.

“You won’t fool me.” She shook her head. “I can see that something is bothering you. Is it because of the treatment?”

Marcel glanced at his bags prepared in the corner of the room for their departure tomorrow and a heavy burden pushed down on his heart. Another treatment. Another specialist. Another blown chance. Another false hope. He had gotten tired of these constant glimmering hopes, but his mother obviously hadn’t. She still believed in him. If only Marcel had had the same strength!

“Yes.” He sighed, taking the chance to hide the true reason for his state.

The treatment wouldn’t work and he knew it. There was no point in ever trusting in it or expecting something out of it. He had learned to read the face of the many doctors a long time ago. They all said the same empty phrases to him, as if they thought that if they told him the same lies over and over again, he would believe them and then they would become real. But beyond the reassuring words, he could see the same hopelessness he felt. The stolen glances his doctors and his mother exchanged over his head when they thought he wasn’t paying attention told him more than he needed to hear.

 

* * *

 

Mats couldn’t stop thinking about the boy in the window, about the afternoon and the way their plan had gone wrong. No, it hadn’t only gone wrong, it had been a real disaster and he should have known it, he should have listened to the feeling he had had in his guts. Why had he followed Neven’s advice to play a couple?

He had always had good instincts in the past - that was also why he had known for quite a while now that he wasn’t attracted to girls, but to boys instead. And, despite the opinion of his teachers about his performance in school, he had been clever enough to not try to deny what he couldn’t fight anyway.

Restlessly, he wandered around in his room, not having the slightest clue what he should do next. He had refused to talk to Neven after the incident in the afternoon, heading home and pretending that he had to sleep a night before he could take another decision.

Taking decisions.

Normally, Mats was good at it, strong and determined, like he was with his urgent wish to become a professional footballer. He lived for his dream, not questioning it, giving everything he had to make it come true. He trained, he listened to advices, he tried hard to improve every day.

But would it be enough?

A slight knocking at his door interrupted his deep musings. „Mats? Dinner is ready,” his mother announced. But, when she saw her son, she stepped closer. „Are you all right, dear?” She shot Mats a worried gaze and stroked quickly through his hair, almost having to stand on her toes because her „little one” wasn’t so little anymore.

„Yeah,” Mats shrugged another time, „I’m just exhausted from playing football. Neven was quite demanding today. We trained a lot and now I’m tired.” He hoped that his mother would believe his fib because he was really exhausted - but not from the physical exercises he had become used to in the meantime. What he wasn’t used to was… lovesickness. Hell, was he really lovesick? Because of a boy he had met only a few days earlier?

„I see,” his mom replied, „but remember that you can always count on me if something is troubling you, right?”

„Right,” Mats confirmed, following her to the living room to take the dinner. He was absent-minded throughout the whole meal, not even noticing what he was swallowing down.

What if he wouldn’t be able to see the boy again? What if the dream to get to know him better was as fragile as his wish to become a football pro?

Then, he remembered the words one of his former trainers had said to him. „If you won’t believe in yourself, nobody will do.” He repeated the sentence over and over again in his mind like a mantra, clinging to its meaning like to the last hope of the entire world.

And suddenly, he knew exactly what he had to do.


	7. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with the next chapter which tells us more about Mats' feelings and thoughts. Sorry it took us so long, we will try to hurry with the update this time. :-) Thank you for bearing with us and showing your support to this story, please keep it up if you liked this chapter. :-)

The next afternoon, Mats went to the training pitch with the grim determination to talk to Marcel and tell him everything. How he felt, what reaction the blond had caused in him and that he couldn’t go on like this anymore. The teenager would probably laugh at him, but Mats wouldn’t mind it. Okay, he most probably would mind it a lot, but it was still better than this hesitation and uncertainty. And of course, he had to consider his mother’s nosiness. She had dropped the topic for now, but she had spotted that something was wrong with Mats and it wouldn’t take her more than a couple of days to put the pieces together, and Mats would rather have to face her then with knowing if he stood a chance with Marcel or not.

He didn’t talk to Neven all day long, but not because he was mad at his best friend. He knew that Neven had meant good and his previous plan’s success hadn’t depended on him. It was Mats who had screwed up, but it had had to be him and by now, he was actually happy that they couldn’t fool Marcel. Mats wouldn’t have liked it if their relationships began in the wake of a white lie and the misunderstanding it created. He’d rather show Marcel his cards and let the blond decide what next. He knew that this was the right thing to do and he didn’t want Neven to even try to deter him.

Only, it wasn’t that easy. Mats had to puke just by thinking about being so vulnerable in front of Marcel. He also could imagine how stupid he would look like stammering and fluttering like a small child. But, there was nothing else left for him. He was almost grown-up; it was about time he admitted his feelings not only to himself, but also to wear them with pride for the whole world to see. Mats wasn’t ashamed of who he was and he finally felt ready to come out of the closet. And he hoped that Marcel would follow him.

As he had expected, his heart beat faster the moment he left the school building and started off towards that special football pitch and to that house next to it. His heartrate sped up with each step and when he turned down the corner and Marcel’s house came into sight, his heart was pounding in his throat. It was lucky for him, because without that suffocating feeling, he would have surely thrown up right there. Somehow, he thought that a disgusting scent from his mouth wouldn’t further his cause.

He took a deep breath and straightened his back before he made the last few steps towards his love’s home. He read the nametag next to the doorbell. _Schmelzer_. It filled his heart with warmth and he found himself grinning like an idiot. It was strange that he hadn’t known Marcel’s full name until now, but these two names sounded so perfectly together. Almost as perfect as the person who wore them.

He regretted his decision to ring the doorbell right after the buzz stopped. He panicked. What was he going to say if not Marcel would open the door? ‘ _Good afternoon, Mrs. Schmelzer. I know that you have no idea who I am, but I think I am in love with your son, and I want to tell him that, so could you please tell him that Mats wants to talk to him._ ’? It sounded pathetic even to him.

His heart was crawling up his throat into his mouth and he had problems with getting air into his lungs. He counted down the seconds with his nerves ready to snap, and hey, when did the sun start to shine so strongly? His forehead was soaking wet with sweat. Secretly, he hoped that his ringing would go on unanswered, but he didn’t believe that it would happen.

Still, a minute passed and there was no answer. Mats let out a relieved sigh and he turned around. His head hung low, and he wasn’t sure, why. After all, he had just been spared of a self-humiliation. He was on the lowest step when he halted.

No, he wouldn’t give up so easily. He had to try again. He had come here to talk to Marcel and tell him how he felt, which was strange since he himself didn’t really know how he felt. But, somehow he had the suspicion that talking would be much easier with Marcel next to him. Staring into the blond’s bluish eyes, he would certainly find the right words and admit his love for the other teenager.

He turned around once again and climbed the stairs. He rang the doorbell again and this time, he was led by a firm determination. He was going through with his plan. And if he would make a fool out of himself, at least he would be a brave fool. He knew that if he didn’t say anything, if he didn’t open up to Marcel, he would be mad at himself for the rest of his life. No, this was his time, and any hesitation would lower his chances. He needed to do it, now.

But, once again, no answer came. Mats exhaled the breath he didn’t know he had been holding back. So his plan would come to an end here, without really achieving anything. He walked down the path leading to the house. He dropped his football down on the pavement and started to kick it. He kept staring at the ground, let down. Maybe they were shopping, or Marcel was still in school. They would probably come back in a few minutes, and then Mats would get the chance to talk with the teenager. Actually, this scenario would have been more comfortable for him; he wouldn’t have to do any explaining to Marcel’s parents.

“They aren’t at home.” An old lady called after Mats. He spun around and saw her sitting on the porch of the house next to Marcel’s. She was the typical neighborhood blabbermouth: a pensioner who has nothing to do, so sits close to the window or on the porch all day long and knows very well what’s going on with her neighbors. This time, Mats was actually glad they existed. “They left this morning.”

“I see.” Mats nodded. “Do you happen to know when they will come back?” Of course, she wouldn’t admit to prying on her neighbors, but she would certainly share a half-sentence she had overheard.

“No, I don’t. I don’t even know where they went. But, they were packed for at least a week.” She said. “They are strange people, to say the least. They mostly keep to themselves. They moved here a few weeks ago, and imagine, they haven’t come to say goodbye to me ever since!” She added, offended, but the only thing that mattered to Mats was that the Schmelzers were away, and they would be away for a couple of days. “Do you know the little boy?”

“Marcel?” Mats asked. “Yes, I know him– at least, we’ve talked a few times.” He elaborated.

“I see.” She hummed. “And who exactly are you? I have seen you kicking the ball here, but you don’t live in this street, do you?” She switched into her inquiring mode immediately.

Mats noticed it, and he gave an evasive answer, telling her about how he needed a secluded place to get ready for his audition for the school team and that in fact, he was supposed to train already, and he was very sorry, but he had to cut this conversation short. He was pleased with himself, because he managed to tell her all that without giving away any information about him. She answered with a frown and Mats had the feeling that from now on, he would be thoroughly watched and inspected by her.

Right now, he couldn’t care less about it. He was buried in his own thoughts as he walked to the pitch. So Marcel was away and Mats had no idea where he had gone and when he would come back. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel sad about it, though. He had made his decision and he would stick to it, he was sure about it. He had the needed driving force. He couldn’t live without telling Marcel about his feelings, he knew that for sure. It was just a minor setback that would postpone his declaration.

By the time he was on the pitch, he was upbeat again. The good vibes from his active attitude rushed in his blood and filled him with euphoria. Yes, his plan was the right one and he wouldn’t give up. And suddenly, another idea hit him. He had a few days until Marcel would come back; why couldn’t he prepare a little surprise for the boy? He could show him that he took his advices seriously and he perfected his kicking technique. He could already see what he was going to do, and he put down the ball, ready to start practicing. He would awe the blond teenager, he was sure about that.


	8. Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We still owed you with Marcel's point of view, and this chapter will tell you more about his week and where they went. Not everything will be explained, but we won't keep you in the dark for a long time, and Marcel and Mats will be reunited again in the next chapter. Please, stay tuned, and if you would like to, share your thoughts with us. :-)

„Are you sure that we have everything?” Marcel’s mother ran through a list she had printed out for the umpteenth time. She had made this list long ago, for the several occasions they had needed it.

Now, the family car was packed with bags and suitcases stapled right under the roof of the trunk and the seat in the back. Marcel eyed it and sighed. He knew that his mother always packed more than necessary, almost as if they wanted to move abroad for the rest of their lives.

„Yes, I am,” he answered his mother fondly, because somehow, the great care she had shown for him throughout the last years warmed his heart and never failed to make him emotional.

Only that in the meantime there was another person who also made him emotional.

Normally, he wouldn’t mind the „vacation” - his mother always called it a „vacation” although both of them knew that it wasn’t one - he would spend and endure the days like he has done so often.

But this time, something was different. He would miss the boy who always came over to play football on the ground near his house. The other one, tall and strong, had become the highlight of his days in the last weeks, he loved to watch him play because he could see that he was very talented.

For a long time, Marcel had only watched football on television and the internet, gaining enormous knowledge about this sport. But then, the teenager had started to kick against the ball literally in his backyard and something had electrified him right from the start.

He hadn’t been able to hold himself back when he saw that the dark-haired boy tried over and over again, trying to score without noticing his mistake, and he had been glad when the other one had taken his hint.

And afterwards, everything had gone wrong.

The teenager had come to the ground with a friend, a friend he apparently was very close to and maybe even intimate with.

Marcel had doomed the day when he first had seen him because now he was not only sick, no - he was also lovesick.

He had known for a long time that he didn’t like girls - not that one of them had been interested in him anyways - but, boys. And apparently, he had developed a crush on that very special dark-haired teenager who could treat the ball so perfectly.

„Marcel, are you all right?” his mother brought him out of his musings. Her forehead was wrinkled in worry and Marcel recognized that she must have lost weight again, the concern about her son taking its toll.

„Sure, mom, I’m looking forward to our trip,” he fibbed, determined to not increase her worries and to console her if possible. „I bet it will do me good.” He reached out his hands to his mother, embracing her slim frame, trying to be the stronger one.

If only his mom knew how desperate he was sometimes and how afraid of the future. Yet, he couldn’t let it show, it would have killed her inwardly.

That was also the reason why he hadn’t told her about his preference for boys. She was too occupied with his health, he didn’t want to explain to her that he wanted to have a love life, as well. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he loved men but, for his mother he was still the little boy, hardly grown up from the age where he had played with Lego bricks.

„Can we leave then?” his mother murmured into the embrace, strengthening her shoulders. Marcel admired her for her power of action and he nodded, trying to manage a smile.

„Yes, get the car ready,” he said, moving towards the passenger seat.

One last look back to the house, one last look back to the football ground.

„I will miss you,” he whispered, inaudible for his mother. „I’ll be back in a week, don’t forget about me”, he closed his silent prayer.

But before his mind’s eye, he still saw his secret crush embracing his friend, an imagination that made him sadder as everything else he had to suffer from before.

 

* * *

 

“Can I come in, darling?” Marcel’s mother opened the door to his hotel room a week later.

She had that sad and guilty expression she always had on the last evenings of their unsuccessful vacations. Marcel hated it, but he couldn’t do anything about it. His mother loved him and he knew it; her sadness was the result of her deep love for her son, and if that’s how she wanted to live through the hard times, Marcel was ready to accept it, and act along.

Even if it saddened and sometimes even annoyed him. He didn’t want to see his Mom like this. He wanted to see her smile, laugh wholeheartedly, like she did when Marcel was a small boy. How he missed those careless days and evenings they spent together, going on a picnic or watching a movie. Marcel was aware that most of the other boys his age would call their strong bond weird, but he never agreed with them. So, he had a great relationship with his mother. Now what?

“Yes, of course, Mom.” He sighed and put the football magazine he was reading on the nightstand. He sat up and straightened his back. His mother always told him off if he sat with a hunched shoulder.

“How are you doing?” She asked tenderly as she sat down next to him and stroked his cheeks. Marcel had a hard time to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He loved his mother, but there were some limits even to his patience.

“I’m fine.” He lied. He wasn’t fine. He missed home– and he missed Mats. He wanted to watch the other teenager kick the ball again, because it made him forget about his own troubles. With Mats, he felt himself free, like he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You know, the doctor says that it might take some time for the therapy to start working and you shouldn’t give up. You remember the exercises he taught you, right?” She asked, and Marcel nodded, annoyed. He knew that the exercises wouldn’t work. “I am so proud of you, you know that, right?” She sighed and hugged Marcel.

The blond soon felt two drops of tear falling on his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around his mother tightly. It was strange. Somehow, he thought that it should have been his mother who supported him and gave him a shoulder to cry on, not the other way around. But, they both dealt with their hardships differently. He had given up hope, and went on these vacations without any expectations, so he didn’t feel let down in the end. She still believed that there would come an improvement, and every unsuccessful attempt was another shock to her. Still, Marcel found it appropriate. Behind the façade, he still wanted to be normal, and his mother kept the flame of hope alive, even if it was just a small and weak flame in the middle of a windstorm.

“There’s another specialist not far from here. I could call him and ask for an appointment.” She said weakly. Marcel gulped. He feared this moment. It was the same every single time. The list of doctors and specialists didn’t get any shorter, and his mother always had a plan B and C. He took a deep breath and swallowed down the outburst that was forming on his lips.

“Okay.” He sighed. She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “Just not right now. I want to rest a bit, and I will do these exercises. Maybe they will help after all.” He smiled weakly at her.

“Of course, you must be tired.” She wiped away her tears and ruffled Marcel’s hair before she stood up. She started off towards the door, but turned back. “Sleep well, darling. And don’t forget to set up your alarm clock. We have to leave early in the morning.”

“Yes, Mom.” Marcel nodded and she left.

He lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow at this time, he would be in his own bed, and he might have a chance to see Mats. They would arrive at home late in the afternoon, but maybe the boy would still be there. If he really wanted to be a part of his school’s team, he had to train hard, and Marcel saw that determination in his eyes.

“Well, good night, Mats! I hope you haven’t forgotten me!” He sighed into the empty room, his thoughts traveling through space and trying to find their addressed before he switched the lamp off.


	9. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We don't want you to wait any longer, so this chapter will finally reveal Marcel's big secret. We are curious what you think about it, so please, don't hesitate to share your thoughts with us. :-)

Never had a week been so long.

Mats returned each and every day to the football ground, kicking the ball around, just to see if the boy in the window really wasn’t back already, if the neighbor of the family had been right that the family would probably stay away for longer.

Six times he came in vain, not caring about bad weather or the complaining of his mother. Stubbornly, he made his way to the pitch like a clockwork.

The seventh day, the other boy was back.

It was weird - Mats could already sense it before he really saw the proof, the curtains in the special window spread further apart than all the long days before.

A stranger probably wouldn’t have even noticed the small change but in the meantime, Mats didn’t feel like a stranger anymore.

The certainty that he finally had „his“ crush back and that he was finally able to do something set a huge amount of adrenaline free and he ran over the pitch like a maniac, not trying to hide his joy.

Mats did some tricks, like picking the ball up with his heel, and hammered the leather into the net not once, but several times. Hell, where did his stamina suddenly come from? It was as if he couldn’t stop playing. And then it dawned on him.

He hoped that the other boy would show up in the window again, that he would be able to contact him. And deep in his mind he thought that it would be more likely if he would present the best of his skills.

Not only once, he gazed up at the window, with no result. The house was definitely inhabited again but, there was nobody to be seen.

Mats focused on the ball, trying to practice the trick he had performed the very first time he had seen the other boy. The tall teenager didn’t know how he managed to do it, but, he succeeded like never before, the ball describing a wonderful curve until it eventually hit the net and Mats let out a cheerful, happy sound.

Yet, he wouldn’t have awaited the answer to his shot. He heard someone applauding him and he didn’t even need guess who it was.

„Well done!“ the boy shouted over to him and only then Mats recognized that he must have opened the window in the meantime, because otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to hear him.

Mats grabbed the ball and put it under his arm insecurely. What should he do now? His heart thrummed so fast in his chest, it was even quicker than the pace it reached when he watched a final of his beloved football team. With a deep and shaky breath, he slowly turned around and gazed into the direction of the window.

The next moment, he knew that he was lost. The boy was even more handsome and attractive without a window glass between them and he liked not only his looks, but his whole appearance. His voice, the shy smile he showed to Mats.

And then, Mats was hit by a sudden idea. It was good that he acted out of an instinct and didn’t think about his deed because probably he would have been shocked about himself.

Mats held the ball high up in the air so that the other one could see it, stepping closer and closer until he had reached the perfect place - and then he kicked the ball right into the direction of the window.

 

* * *

 

Marcel’s heart missed a beat when he saw Mats face to face. The raven-haired was even nicer than he remembered, and he had had a very idealistic image of him in his mind. But nothing could give back the joy of life that sparkled in those dark eyes. He wasn’t an image anymore. Mats was a living human being only a few meters away from Marcel, and yet, it felt like there was a huge gap between them Marcel didn’t know if they could overcome.

On his way home, he had realized a lot of things. First of all, that he hadn’t been completely honest with Mats. He hadn’t told him about the most important thing, nor that he would leave for a week and why he would have to leave. Somehow, he thought that they couldn’t get closer until he would bring down that barrier between them. He needed to tell Mats everything, to let him know who he was. Otherwise, there was no way the other teenager could really fall in love with him.

So he decided to explain Mats everything as soon as they met, but then, the raven-haired shocked him completely, and Marcel’s heart missed another beat when Mats kicked his ball at his window. He had nothing against Mats’ skills, but he had seen him practice free kicks, and he missed completely as many times as he hit his target and Marcel didn’t want to explain to his mother why they would have to change a window.

His worry was needless, though. The ball swished through the air, flying on the perfect curve and finding its way through the open door exactly into Marcel’s lap. The blond looked at him bewildered for a moment and then he grabbed it. He looked up back at Mats and he saw that the boy was grinning.

“Hello, Marcel!” Mats greeted him, and the love he put into his voice warmed Marcel’s heart. All of a sudden, he forgot about Mats’ friend and that he probably was taken.

“Hi, Mats! I see you have kept practicing.” Marcel smiled back at him.

“Impressive, huh?” Mats winked and laughed. How sweet he sounded. Marcel had feared that he would behave distant after a week spent apart, but quite on the contrary, they clicked together like never before, as if in the last few days, they had gotten closer than ever. “How are you doing? I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“Yes, um–“ Marcel didn’t know what to say. He had planned everything so perfectly, and now Mats was going against his plans. How was he supposed to give his little speech with the other teenager interrupting him all the time? This just wouldn’t work. He needed to come up with something. Suddenly, the idea lit up in his mind and he had to chuckle about the simplicity of it. “Wait there! It’s not that comfortable talking to you over the window! I’ll go down to you!”

 

* * *

 

Mats thought that his ears were deceiving him. Could it really be that Marcel was coming to see him? It was exciting and also frightening, but he couldn’t care about it. His whole body shivered and his heart was beating somewhere in his throat. But, he still grinned like a lunatic as he ran over to the Schmelzer’s house’s entrance and waited impatiently to see his crush and tell him everything he wanted to tell.

A minute went by, and then another one, and there was no sign of Marcel. Maybe the other one was only joking with him? Maybe he had noticed how Mats felt about him and was now giving him a lesson? It couldn’t be. Marcel had always been so nice, he would never misuse his knowledge to play stupid pranks on Mats. He was coming to him, and Mats better got ready for seeing him. He had to impress the blond if he was going to contest for his heart.

He ran his fingers through his hair and quickly checked his reflection in the display of his phone. He was far from his best looks, but it would do for today. After all, he had been training, he couldn’t look fresh all the time! He checked his watch. It was 16:47. It had to be at least five minutes since Marcel had told him to wait for him, and still, the blond boy was further away from Mats than he had ever been. He checked the time again after what felt like another five minutes only to find out that it still was 47. He had to stop and calm down. There was no point in waiting for Marcel if by the time the other one appeared, Mats would lie passed out on the pavement.

He took three deep and slow breaths and he slowly composed himself again. He was glad that he hadn’t eaten much for lunch, otherwise, he would have surely thrown up. How could he be so anxious? He had to love Marcel so much if he was so worried about making a wrong first impression. They had already talked, but this felt differently. After all, this would be the first time they would really see each other face to face. If it would come to that, that is.

Just when he formed this thought, the front door of the house was open. First, only a small crack appeared between the doorframe and the door and Mats mused that maybe it was an invitation for him and he would have to go in. But then, the crack grew, and Marcel appeared in the doorway.

There he was: his blonde hair being perfect as always, his eyes shining with the usual hopefulness. He smiled at Mats as he came out of the shadows. He held Mats’ football, but that wasn’t what Mats noticed.

Because Marcel was sitting in a wheelchair.


End file.
